


satin, fire, spice

by mellowly



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Coping Together, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Healthy Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post Hundred Year War, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 05:58:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16675849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellowly/pseuds/mellowly
Summary: It's been eight years since the war ended. A lot of things have changed. Some things have yet to change.In the night hours that smell of spice and smoke, things seem darker - but there's light. So much light.





	satin, fire, spice

**Author's Note:**

> wew lads! rarepairs innit.  
> i love them. in this fic aang is 20 and zuko is 24.

It started as a strange mutual habit. Whenever the avatar spent time in the Royal Palace, inevitably he would relocate from his own room to the Firelord’s master bedroom. Even though he was always welcomed as a guest, Aang had the tendency to sneak through the corridors after the lanterns were turned down.

Zuko kept his door unlocked for this reason specifically.

In the beginning, they did not speak much. Zuko would already have retired to bed; Aang would come in, soundless, and sit himself down by the foot-end or by the window, cross-legged, and he would meditate to the sounds of Zuko’s even, slow breathing. By sunrise, they would both be asleep.  
  
It stayed that way for several years. Zuko ruled as Firelord; Aang spent time in the four nations equally. He rebuilt the Air temples, guided the restoration of the Earth Kingdom, held diplomatic talks with the Water Tribes. Somehow, coming back to the Fire Nation felt strangely like coming home, each time.

Aang readied himself for another night passed in comfortable silence in the Firelord’s chambers. It never felt right, sleeping alone; his room would shrink in on him and be much too cold, or the shadows would take strange shapes, or he would be suddenly aching with some loss or the other.

Zuko was sitting up when he came in. He seemed to have been working up courage for something, and indeed, for the first time in their many silent nights, he spoke.

“You can sit here if you want. the floor must be cold.”

He didn’t quite look at Aang, half-shaded by the unruly mane of his hair. His expression was impossible to determine.  
Aang found himself crawling onto the enormous bed nonetheless. It was strange, really; soft satin sheets, the springiness of the mattress, and the slight warmth that always came from a born firebender.

“Thanks. It’s-“

He sat still. Zuko laid back down, sprawled out over the deep-red of his pillows. Silence reigned once again.  
It was harder to meditate here. Zuko was so close by, and his every breath moved the mattress ever so slightly, his breathing seeming dreadfully loud in Aang’s ears - if he concentrated, he’d surely be able to hear Zuko’s heartbeat. Suddenly, for what felt like no reason at all, he discovered that he was on the verge of tears.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice was soft with sleep, but Zuko was leaning up on his elbow, peering at his friend with a strangely tender worry.

“I don’t know. Nothing is- I think I’m just sad about- about _something_ ,” Aang finished vaguely, breaking from his proper meditative position to wring his hands. For a beat, there was silence.

“I understand.”

Then- then there was an arm about his waist, and gentle pulling, and Aang followed with far too much ease for something like this as Zuko pulled him down and close, nearly cradling the airbender to his chest.

“What are you-“

“I said I understand. It’s okay, I- I get that feeling too. My uncle told me it’s normal. Sometimes you’re just gonna be sad.”

The rumble of Zuko’s voice was even louder now, when Aang’s head rested neatly on his collarbone - the scent of satin and spice was nearly overwhelming, and something in it had him exhaling a series of small, helpless sobs. It felt shameful to cry, but he could not stop.

“It’s okay,” Zuko said again, a fierce, pained edge to his voice. “Don’t hold it in. That’ll hurt. I promise.”

Aang’s hands found the back of his tunic, fingers clutching at soft silk desperately, as if the man holding him was the only thing tethering him to this plane of existence; he cried, and for what exactly he had no idea, but it didn’t matter, all that mattered was this wave of relief, of release, and the aching peace that came afterwards.

Aang shifted. The pillow beneath him was wet.

“Did-“

“Yeah.”  Zuko’s voice was strained. “I don’t know why I- It hurt me.”

“What hurt you?”

“You did. Seeing you- I don’t know why, but seeing you so hurt made me feel- It felt like someone was burning me over and over, and it’s ridiculous, I know, but I-’” there came a familiar sharpness of frustration and distress, “I couldn’t handle seeing you cry like that, it hurt, I just wanted to help you- You make me feel _human_ , and it’s scary, especially when you’re hurt and- I don’t know what it is, it’s driving me crazy-“

Aang felt warm arms tighten around him, felt the fierce pounding of both their hearts in sync.

“I think there’s a word for that, Zuko."

“You do?”

“Yeah. It’s called love.”

The silence between one breath and the next felt agonisingly long - like decades passing in between each shift of the air around them, and yet when Zuko spoke again it was like no time had passed at all.

“I see.”

“Do you? It’s a bit dark.”

A soft, helpless laughter escaped them both, a bit of the tension falling away as they fell back into old habits.

“Is it… Are you saying that because you think it’s what I feel, or because you hope it’s what we feel?”

“Um… Well said, _sifu hotman_.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

Aang closed his eyes, focusing on calm, but it proved difficult; Zuko was right there, a constant, steadying and yet picking away his balance bit by bit simply by existing.

“Yes.”

“Does that- Do you-“

“ _Yes_. To… To everything. Everything you want to ask of me.”

Zuko took his face in both of his hands, and Aang finally met his gaze. Steady, slow, achingly slow, they found recognition within each other’s eyes.

“You make me feel so alive.” It was worded between one breath and the next, floating in the still between them for just a second-

Zuko kissed him then, warm, enveloping, and Aang kissed him back, letting himself be washed away into bliss; gentle at first, just touches of their lips until either ( _unclear which, and it didn’t matter_ ) grew confident, fitting their mouths together like fine jewelry, silver and gold. Aang’s hands found a home in Zuko’s hair, and Zuko held onto him like he might slip away at any moment, clutching him close.

“I think this means I’m allowed to stay the night?”

Zuko laughed, one of those rare laughs that Aang vowed to treasure in his heart forever, and with a smile like that it was impossible not to give in and kiss him once more.

“You’re very allowed to stay.”


End file.
